What Does My Music Library Say About Me?

A Rebuttal to the Personality Link

William Sundwick

Ever since I can remember, I’ve liked listening to music. My childhood was spent with a father who was a failed violinist in his youth. (He became an engineer.) But, while he never played for me, he was totally dedicated to the classical, mostly 19^th century, orchestral catalogue. He took off from Paganini and didn’t stop until Heifetz. Listening to music was very serious business to him. It was clearly emotional. I inherited the emotional content, if not the literature.

For me, dramatic always trumped soothing. Heavy was generally better than light. I adored Beethoven -- a love shared with my dad. Schumann, Berlioz, Brahms all get honorable mention. I liked the Russians, too – along with my mother – father not so much (no violinists).

Something happened to me culturally, however, when I got to high school, and obtained a driver’s license. With a little help from my friends, I discovered top 40 radio in the car. It became a social thing. My previous group of friends, intellectually precocious New York Jews, with holocaust survivor parents, had aided and abetted my classical predilections up to that point -- although none of us ever played an instrument. Driving around listening to radio in the car became a liberating experience. Independence at last!

Social acceptance changed tone in college. There, the driving force seemed to be “what’s new.” And, then, what would come next. Thus, the avant-garde invaded my mind, with musical, artistic, and theatrical dimensions. Grafted onto that avant-garde sensibility was social awareness of a different world – an underclass world of black people. Blues and avant-garde jazz were, in my mind as a college student, part of the same “movement.” I had already gained an appreciation for the left from my New York Jewish friends in high school – college gave me the chance to integrate all that into an aesthetic that would become my own.

I still listened to classical music in college but replaced the 19^th century romantics with baroque and more 20th century artists. I liked Shostakovich and Prokofiev symphonies.

After college, it became clear that the future lay with rock music. It was symbolic of the age, and drew from a fabulous, beautiful history of the great migration from the South to the industrial Midwest. Urban blues became my music. As it transmogrified into Chicago Blues or British Blues, it seemed to be part of an evolving tradition. A working-class artform.

I, too, became a worker. I may have been an intellectual worker, but a worker, nonetheless. Adding to that, I was slow to develop intimate relationships – adolescent “sturm und drang” didn’t disappear from my psyche until my late marriage at 35. By that time, I was dedicated to Bob Dylan, the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. The revolution was still coming – in the future.

If there is anything at all to the psychological studies which claim to correlate musical tastes with personality, I might confess being a “systemizer” more than an “empathizer” – like my engineer father. This does tend to support the basic genres of music I like best. I prefer complex melodies and rhythms, and intense music.

One parameter for musical taste which is clearly bogus in my case is age. I’m still discovering new musical genres at age 71. I have only recently become a fan of heavy metal and punk/post-punk. It says something to me which is as valid now as it was when I was 20 or 25. I’ve never rejected my roots. Sadly, I never participated in creating music. But I still appreciate it.

Today the only time I listen intently to music is at the gym. This means I associate my music library with biofeedback (cardio) and may even use it for “productivity enhancement” (makes me pedal harder). This is a departure from my youthful serious listening, although that listening mode is still imprinted in my emotional affect. I still like sad songs (blues), especially when linked to social alienation and emancipation. I continue associating avant-garde with class struggle, opposing the mainstream.

When music stays “underground,” it is better than when it is commercially successful. I’ve never liked “soothing” or “easy listening” music of the pop world. I reject overly sentimental music, as it cheapens my own emotions. And, I steadfastly reject music with a conservative social message. Commercial Nashville usually epitomizes that -- although I still enjoy some Rolling Stones anthems like “Ruby Tuesday” or “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” (both examples of Keith Richards lapsing into extolling market capitalism’s virtue).

Blues is good. The purity and depth of its sentiment is real. It’s mostly about struggle, as I see it. The world of rock, whether blues-based or more experimental (like heavy metal), strikes me as great when it features virtuoso musicians – vocalists, guitar players, drummers, especially. Harmonica and tenor sax can often give an extra treat to the ear, as well. They contribute a plaintive tone to a song.

But the beat must remain predominant. Even in experimental electronic forms, there must be an underlying regular, repetitive beat. Sometimes the beat gets lost but is heroically rediscovered in the denouement. Zeppelin were masters of this, especially “In My Time of Dying” and “Dazed and Confused”. “Noise rock,”  like Sonic Youth, has tried the same approach – the beat must be at the heart of the song, even if lost in the middle.

Rock anthems continue to have an appeal to me. They seem to be hymns, crying “we shall overcome someday.”  Often, they take the form of a personal story, but sometimes they preach. The underlying emotion is hopefulness, with a dash of triumphalism – arrived at mostly through resistance to malevolent forces. Two of my favorite anthems are from the Rolling Stones: “Gimme Shelter” and “Midnight Rambler.” The former is the preaching style, the latter more bluesy.

The singer-songwriter folk tradition also contributes much to my music library. But always a folk-rock beat and instrumental backup is added. Mumford and Sons made a big impression on me when they entered the scene about ten years ago. Banjo replaces lead guitar on their first two albums, but it’s unmistakably folk rock.

The main reason I can’t buy the link between personality and musical tastes is that my tastes are way too varied to be pigeonholed. Why would I want to define who I am, anyway? Different studies have come up with different dimensions of personality and music – there is an “extroversion” scale where the most outgoing folks like the music I like, but the introverted folks also like some of the music I like. The “neuroticism” dimension in different studies concludes that people who rank high in neuroticism like totally opposite kinds of music. Go figure.

I think it’s not about musical genres, but more the socio-cultural tradition you live in that determines your musical taste. Mine has been developing for 71 years. There’s quite a history behind it. If I share it with nobody else, I don’t care.

Moral Struggles: Narcissism vs. Humility

William Sundwick

Power and Intimidation

Self-righteousness is the sole property of the narcissist.  He is always right. Those who have differing opinions are always wrong. And, he believes that if we are to be moral creatures, righteousness must be enforced. Wrong must be suppressed.

His instruments of enforcement include brute force, legal authority, religious dogma, bureaucratic hierarchies. He may even invent fictitious authority, for instance “history” or “custom” -- usually softer than the other more brutal instruments. But, the basic principle is intimidation, or cajolery and persuasion.

His aim is obedience. If he cannot summon sufficient instruments of power to carry the day, the narcissist becomes the submissive servant instead -- unworthy, despicable, a loser.

How much does organized society depend on this psychological cruelty? What is the payoff in this system?

An alternative appeared sometime early in the development of human consciousness. It was to foster cooperation. Doing the “right thing” depended not on the force of will, or authority, but on the anticipation of shared rewards. The sales pitch would be opportunity, not fear.

Then God was invented. From a simple concept, the doctrine of humility arose. The highest authority resided outside any one person – indeed, above all flawed humanity. Unfortunately, humans, being narcissists, had difficulty grasping this concept.  They projected their narcissism onto the emperor, or some collection of powerful people, like an ecclesiastical hierarchy.

Though the pull of narcissism proved strong, one spark did seem to persist through the ages – the deep desire to do better. Humility became a goal to strive toward. And, the moral struggle became an obsessive challenge for many a monk, and many a slave.

Mine

Toddlers discover agency. They can do things, get attention from parents … and soon learn the word “mine” to describe objects they want to control, to own. This creation of “Self” is the beginning of narcissism. I’ve seen my 22-month-old grandson achieve this level of consciousness, with a vengeance! When he appears to offer an object to someone else -- a toy, food, or when he points, naming something he sees -- it’s an attempt to influence them, to show off, not to be generous. Hopefully, he can relearn these behaviors as generosity when he gets older, but for now, it’s strictly ego gratification! If he doesn’t relearn, he will be in danger of becoming a pathological narcissist. That condition would arise if “mine” is the only idea he understands. In earlier times, it was called megalomania.

While psychologists can describe the symptoms of narcissism, the causes of the Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) are in dispute. The clinical description from DSM-IV is as follows: 

Narcissistic personality disorder is characterized by a pervasive pattern of grandiosity, need for admiration, interpersonal exploitiveness, and lack of empathy, beginning in early adulthood and manifest in a variety of contexts. 

Like many personality disorders, it seems to be a matter of degree (key judgmental words here – “pervasive,” “need,” “lack”). A 2009 survey estimated about

6% of U.S. population suffers from NPD. But the other 94% of us exhibit some of these symptoms some of the time, throughout life.

Here is an entirely amateur hypothesis, based only on my own introspection, raising two sons, and observing my grandson – as well as other people throughout my life. I think narcissism comes from difficulty reaching one’s Self. Most people can find themselves with a moderate amount of work, as they mature.  But, due to various circumstances, some just can’t quite get there.  Their Self is either opaque, or visible but unreachable. These aggravating circumstances might have to do with parental expectations, or even parental narcissism.  It could be an inherited disorder.

If children are taught to relate to others only through the prism of their own egos, something will remain undiscovered – and that something will likely include empathy. If expectations are exceedingly high for a child, that child may either fantasize that it has achieved those expectations, or surrender to perennial failure, never able to “measure up.” If parents teach children that their whole family is constantly subject to being judged, the child will adopt a persona of constantly seeking approval from others. And, so on.  I don’t believe “over-indulgence” of children causes narcissism. Instead, it results in strong egos, not the characteristically weak ego of the narcissist.

What if somebody realizes, as an adult, that they have NPD? What do they do about it? Probably nothing, since seeking help runs counter to their whole world view – they are already either perfect, or hopeless. Could friends and family persuade them to seek therapy? Depends. Greatest likelihood would probably be via threat (loss of job or spouse), but that may only cause them to dig in deeper!

Rather than attempting to get somebody to deny Self, the more fruitful approach might be to teach them to incorporate others into Self – a philosophy that knows no bounds! The whole world could conceivably be viewed as the Larger Self (invoking a vaguely spiritual presence?). If my ego encompasses everybody, what might be the implications for society? For morality, itself?

Healthy skepticism of the “Larger Self” view is warranted, however. We always need to be on guard against false humility. Some of the best examples of false humility are people who make lots of promises, or try very hard to make you feel good. Think about preachers, teachers, politicians! They have all mastered some professional acting skills – they may not convince so much as “stroke” the Self. We naturally find them hard to resist. On the other hand, if we knowingly submit to their wiles, perhaps we are on the way to true humility ourselves – can willing submission outweigh the need for dominance? Sometimes. The secret might be to recognize that we were being manipulated, and accept it – it may be benign.

NPD and the Rest of Us

Of course, most of us would not be diagnosed with NPD by a mental health professional.

“Everyday narcissism” can be described in a similar way as NPD, but can be better controlled. We can engage in a modest amount of introspection when confronted by apparent rejection, or demeaning comments by others. We can learn to ask ourselves about others’ personal agendas, as well as ours. We can acknowledge that we ought to do better, and try tweaking our interpersonal behaviors accordingly.

Two examples of everyday narcissism which many of us experience, and can be considered beneficial to human welfare, are flirting and leadership.

Flirting, though perhaps banal, is based on the principle of physical attraction. It is an intimation of bonding between individuals, but with no commitment to intimacy. Within socially agreeable constraints, it is generally thought to consist of ego “strokes” we find appealing. Both parties to flirtation are indulging essentially narcissistic fantasies. They are presuming worthiness of intimacy, but unconsciously agreeing not to engage in intimacy with each other (if either party consciously says “no,” or “are you kidding,” the flirtatious exchange, by definition, is over). The usual social constraints include keeping the flirtation hidden from a spouse, and knowing the prudent stopping point. But, given these rules, flirting is an exploration of getting outside one’s Self, an attempt to reach out. It has the benefit of making both participants feel good, appealing to them with “narcissistic supply.”

More consequential, the quality of Leadership has been identified as a combination of narcissism and humility. True enough, many people occupying leadership roles may show much narcissism, and only false humility. But, the best leaders have goals governed by ego needs, yet know in their hearts that cooperation (teamwork) is the only way those goals can be achieved. This is genuine humility, not exploitation. Steve Jobs has often been cited as the archetype of the successful narcissistic leader, mostly because he managed to come back from humiliating failure, caused by his narcissism, as a changed, humbler, executive. He then achieved phenomenal success up to his death. Social organizations do require leadership, and we cannot deny the role narcissism plays.

The important moral lesson about narcissism is that being good is a quest, not a state. You are on your way when you finally realize that their welfare matters to you. Intimacy depends upon this realization. Leadership depends upon it, as well. Giving is learned behavior, and practice will tend to improve one’s skills. Sometimes, occasional role reversal helps us to understand the dynamics of narcissism. If we are usually ensconced in a grandiose dominance role, try switching to the submissive listener role. If we are stuck in an unworthy ”piece-of-crap” self-image, try being more assertive. Over time, with practice, we may come to understand our ego dynamics better. But, the quest continues … thinking we’ve finally “made it” spells certain defeat!